


better men do better things

by aroceu



Category: The Social Network (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fix-It, Gen, wherein california is a metaphor for change
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-16
Updated: 2017-04-16
Packaged: 2018-10-19 16:59:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10644177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aroceu/pseuds/aroceu
Summary: Anyway, Facebook is gonna be the next big thing and when Sean goes inside the house he stops in his tracks because there, in the kitchen, is basically the giant roadblock into Facebookbecomingthat thing, to surpass all expectations and take advantage of all the luck that's been handed to them on a silver platter. Shattering those things is--or will be, undoubtedly--Eduardo Saverin, sitting at the kitchen counter with his head in his hands.





	

**Author's Note:**

> ([via](http://tsn-kinkmeme.livejournal.com/12119.html?thread=20916055#t20916055))  
>  **Translated into Chinese[here](http://yexiu1113.lofter.com/post/1e21ac59_f90e178)**

It's something like four in the fucking morning when Sean comes back in the house, having been exiled because he was rambling on his phone for so long and so loudly and even though for the most part the interns don't care, the girls on the couch are passed out with the bong between them. Sean isn't scared of them, really; it's just that around one in the morning, after Mark had conked out on his mattress again and Dustin pretended he was wired in (really, what's wrong with that guy) Sean had been talking to Paul again about Manningham, and _maybe_ he was talking louder than he should have when there were unconscious girls in the living room, and _maybe_ one of the supposedly unconscious girls chucked an Xbox controller nearly at his head to get him to shut up. Those things are expensive, okay, and Sean isn't going to risk getting those things broken and having to replace them when they're his main source of entertainment when he's not making calls and getting his people--you know, the ones--to help him and Mark out with Facebook shit.  
  
Going outside wasn't the wisest course of action, mostly because Sean is pretty sure that the car parked across the drive isn't the homeowners', and also it's not in the actual driveway which is pretty unoccupied so who does that? There's a garage but even if the garage were full, no one parks their own car on the street outside of their own house. No bitch around here is trustworthy, especially near Palo Alto. Oh, the Stanford kids are as innocent as college kids come--that is, willing to buy you weed and snort coke off each other's bodies--but Sean knows the business around here and it is lethal.  
  
The Facebook House (which is what they're calling it, now--Sean, anyway, in his mind) is like a homing beacon for good ideas that _flourish_ , take advantage of the environment instead of being a victim of it, rising above to be the Next Big Thing. Sean knows, because he was the Big Thing once, and it wasn't the Big Thing in the same way that Facebook's gonna be, but it's pretty fucking close.  
  
Anyway, Facebook is gonna be the next big thing and when Sean goes inside the house he stops in his tracks because there, in the kitchen, is basically the giant roadblock into Facebook _becoming_ that thing, to surpass all expectations and take advantage of all the luck that's been handed to them on a silver platter. Shattering those things is--or will be, undoubtedly--Eduardo Saverin, sitting at the kitchen counter with his head in his hands.  
  
It's August, so outside the sun has barely started rising, a bleak reminder that there's not enough hours in the day before it's time to hit the race tracks again. Sean sidles up to him and says, "Not getting your beauty rest? Aren't you flying out this morning?" He plucks a banana from the fruit bowl--it hadn't been his idea and it'd definitely not been Mark's to buy some fruit--but one of the interns is probably a health freak, anyway, and Sean can appreciate a good banana once in a while.  
  
Eduardo chuckles without taking his head out of his hands. "Don't talk to me, Parker."  
  
Oh, so they're on a last name basis now. Sean can roll with that. "We're the only ones conscious in this house," he says, because it's true--Dustin's passed out at the desktop by the back screen door, and at this time of the night (or morning), the rest of the interns have also scattered to their respective places--one of the mattresses in the few bedrooms, or just straight up on the kitchen table. Ian's passed out on the concrete by the pool before. It's probably a bad idea to keep so much beer at the fingertips of nineteen year olds.  
  
Eduardo snorts and lifts his head up. His eyes are red-rimmed and his jacket his hanging from the back of his seat, though it doesn't really make much of a difference when his button-up is black, too. His entire wardrobe is black, but not even in the chic gothic appeal. It's kind of really boring and Sean remembers what Mark had told him about Eduardo's investment in Gary's Tuxedoes, Sean snorting over his bourbon.  
  
"Why are _you_ still awake, then?" Eduardo asks, as if he's in any place to talk. Still, Sean doesn't mind humoring him.  
  
"Woke up at 7pm. Gotta keep up with the rest of this house's routine, man," Sean says, and pats Eduardo on the shoulder.  
  
Eduardo violently jerks out of his grasp and glares at him. "What is your _problem_ ," he says, except he doesn't say it like a question. He says it like he's said it to himself a million times before and he doesn't care about figuring it out because Sean's _his_ problem, not that Sean has a problem. Sean's pretty used to it.  
  
He answers, anyway. "My problem, dude," Sean says, "is that you're kind of a cockblock in this whole situation. I don't know if you've noticed, but this whole house," and he gestures animatedly, "is on board to get ready for something--something _revolutionary_. And you're holding the reins back on this and trying to get us into what I think you think is the quote unquote 'real world'," air quotes, "when you need to be looking at the big picture, like the rest of us."  
  
Eduardo looks at him for a long moment.  
  
Then he puts in his hands again. "I've long learned since being friends with Mark that sometimes people who think they're geniuses are full of shit," he says into his palms. "So, thanks for the advice, man. Really."  
  
Sean is hurt. Okay, he's not really _hurt_ because he doesn't need Eduardo's approval. But this guy isn't an idiot, he knows, even if Eduardo is bent on acting like one. "Mark and I may _be_ similar, but we're not one and the same," he says, trying to find a middle ground.  
  
"No shit," comes Eduardo's voice.  
  
"Because Mark is so ready to just... make shit and see what happens with it," Sean continues. "And he's stressed as hell. I don't know if you can tell, but I know how this game works and he doesn't. And he knows I'm helping him along so he can work on his little baby, but like, every so often I know he's on the verge of freaking out because this shit isn't as big as it _could_ be yet."  
  
"Has he freaked out yet?" asks Eduardo. There's a tinge of concern in his tone, and Sean knows that he's getting to him.  
  
"Well, no," Sean admits. "But I can tell. I can see it in his eyes."  
  
Eduardo snorts again. "Because that doesn't sound delusional at all."  
  
Sean sighs. He knows he's not a nice person--he doesn't _have_ to be if he doesn't want to, and doing this autodictactical shit has made it unsurprisingly easy to trust no bitch--but on paper, Eduardo is CFO, and Sean is in all fairness living in Eduardo's house so he has to make nice when needed. So Sean says, "C'mon, let's go outside to talk," and Eduardo blinks up at him again in disbelief.  
  
Sean rolls his eyes and starts away. "We have a roof and it's mostly intact," he says, and a second after he turns and begins to leave, he hears Eduardo sigh and follow him.  
  
The ladder out back is their best access to the roof, and Sean had slipped up the first few (or, several, but only Eric had been there and Sean had made him swear not to tell what he'd seen) attempts before getting used to it. Eduardo eases up with a grace and skill that Sean kind of envies but wouldn't admit to on his last dying breath. Okay, maybe on his last dying breath. Depending on who was there.  
  
Eduardo joins him, at his side, and Sean clucks his tongue. "We should've gotten beers," he says.  
  
"I don't want to have drinks with you," Eduardo says, with probably more venom than is necessary.  
  
Sean holds his hands up in withdrawal. "Hey, calm down man, you've got a problem. You've kind of hated me ever since we first met when I did nothing wrong."  
  
"As if that wasn't mutual," Eduardo mutters. He's got one of his legs propped up, elbow resting on it. Sean thinks he should _probably_ sleep if he's going to go back out to New York in a few hours, but it's kind of cool having him out here to talk to instead, even if the guy hates his fucking guts.  
  
"I never _hated_ you," Sean emphasizes. Eduardo turns to him with a raised eyebrow. "Look, I just know that you're trying to kill the party. You're all, business-business-business, and Facebook isn't about that. Right?"  
  
Eduardo narrows his eyes at him. "Sure," he says slowly. "But Facebook _is_ a business."  
  
"Facebook-the-business is secondary," Sean says. "Facebook-the-cool-party-that-every-kid-on-the-block-wants-to-go-to-because-all-the-cool-kids-are-invited is what _really_ matters, dude. You're like--You're like, the annoying strict dad, and I'm like the cool uncle."  
  
"What's the analogy here?" Eduardo says wryly.  
  
Sean shakes his head. "Man," he says. "I know Mark trusts you, but I don't know why. You haven't lightened up _once_ since we've gotten out here."  
  
"Probably because," Eduardo says, gritting his teeth, "he and you and everyone-fucking-else around here has been wasting my fucking money and wasting my fucking money. Like what the fuck is that?" He points at the broken chimney next to them, which Sean winces at. Yeah, that's actually pretty bad.  
  
"Hey, I wasn't here for that, so don't blame that on me," Sean says. "But--the rest of that. Isn't that what college is about? And isn't that what Facebook is about? Being an idiot, having fun, sharing it with the rest of the world?"  
  
Eduardo is silent for a minute. Then, begrudgingly, he says, "That's what Mark says what the Facebook's about."  
  
"And it's Mark's brainchild, isn't it," Sean says with a grin.  
  
Eduardo lets out a low, humorless laugh then, which creeps Sean out though he doesn't say so. "It always comes back to Mark," Eduardo says. "And that's fine, he's--he's ingenious, he's _brilliant_." The dude sounds really bitter for someone laying those compliments on like worship. "And he wants to come out to _California_ , he wants to have _you_ , and your stupid _meetings_ \--"  
  
"'Cause I know what Mark wants for Facebook--" Sean tries to interrupt. Okay, maybe Eduardo's words are digging a little more deeper than he'd like now.  
  
Eduardo ignores him and continues. "And--And he just completely ignores that _I'm_ also looking for VCs in New York, doing all this shit for _him_ , and every time I talk to him it's 'Sean this' and 'Sean that' and I'm so fucking tired of it."  
  
Any other person would've ended their spiel with an exclamation or even a punch to Sean's face. Eduardo, however, just sounds defeated as he crooks his head down and rubs the bridge of his nose, looking exhausted. The guy really needs his sleep.  
  
Sean says, "So I guess that's what you guys were yelling about in the hall."  
  
"The whole house heard, huh?" Eduardo says, head still inclined.  
  
"Well, it was mostly like we heard muffled shouting," says Sean. "Parents fighting, time to stay out. Though I would've liked to be the whole older brother in the situation and pull you guys apart if it ended with fists."  
  
Eduardo scoffs. "Mark wouldn't try to beat me up."  
  
Sean nods solemnly. "He wouldn't," he agrees, not just because Mark is kind of a wimp when it comes to physicality--not like Sean himself can talk--but that Eduardo is kind of terrifying and has that physical presence. Sean wouldn't try to fight him either.  
  
"Mark says that you're helping Facebook," Eduardo says, lifting his head up to meet Sean's eyes again, "but he keeps telling me that I should come out here. And then he said--you know what he said?" He lets out that weird humorless chuckle again. "He says that he wants--no, _needs_ me out here."  
  
Sean rolls his eyes. "I didn't take Mark to be the clingy type," he says, the same time Eduardo says, "As if he really does."  
  
They blink at each other.  
  
Eduardo says, "Wait, what?"  
  
"Oh, come on man," Sean says. "He said he 'needs' you? No context provided? Whipped, through and through." He wishes he had a beer; this is the part where he'd gulp dramatically. "You're clearly not helping anything on the business end, I don't know what the hell _else_ he'd need you for."  
  
"What are you talking about?" Eduardo says. He's gone on full attack mode, though only verbally it's not that intimidating; Sean knows how to play _this_ game. Eduardo's eyes are dark and dangerous and Sean begins mentally plotting the best plan of escape in case Eduardo _does_ end up trying to actually fight him.  
  
Eduardo says, "Mark says that I'd get left behind."  
  
Sean's eyebrows fly up. "He said that?"  
  
"Well." Eduardo backtracks. "He says that he's afraid I might get left behind. Some shit like that. He's obviously not listening."  
  
" _You're_ obviously not listening," Sean says pointedly. "The little guy says that he _needs_ you. Which is kind of embarrassing and pathetic, don't get me wrong--"  
  
"It's not pathetic!" Eduardo barks.  
  
"Whatever you say, man," says Sean. "Why he has an emotional kingpin in you is beyond me, since it's pretty obvious to me you're not contributing anything to the company unless you two are sleeping together--"  
  
Eduardo chokes, and Sean abruptly stops.  
  
"You're not sleeping together, are you?" he says.  
  
"I." Eduardo averts his gaze. "No," he says, and that's clearly not the whole story.  
  
Realization dawns on Sean. "You _are_ ," he says. "Oh my god, so _that's_ why he says he needs you. He needs your super hot sexin'."  
  
"Oh my god," says Eduardo.  
  
"Is this--" Sean snickers. Everything is falling into place now. "Is this why he asked you to be a CFO? Like, I didn't think you were a _bad_ businessman in the first place, but god, Mark's totally biased, isn't he? Not even thinking with business until _I_ came around, and now you're the one--"  
  
"Sean, shut up!" Eduardo shouts, voice echoing so loudly that some birds that have perched on the trees on the other side of the backyard flutter off.  
  
Sean just falls silent and waits for Eduardo to speak. Because this guy is either too pent up or repressed or what. Sean's pretty progressive, escaping Virginia for California, obviously. He doesn't know how it works down under--down under either being Saverin's Floridian ass or Brazilian or what--but Sean knows how to read subtext too.  
  
"Mark and I," Eduardo bites out, "are. Not. Sleeping. Together."  
  
"Oh." That theory's out of the park then.  
  
Sean asks, anyway, "Are you sure?"  
  
"I am _pretty_ sure I'd know if I was having sex on a regular basis with my best friend," Eduardo says.  
  
Sean snickers. "Best friends, cute," he says. "And I didn't say on a regular basis, man, like, I would totally count drunk hookups if that's ever happened--"  
  
"It hasn't," snaps Eduardo.  
  
Something about his tone of voice throws Sean for a loop. Eduardo says that it hasn't, but there's a shadow under there that says, _but I'd like there to be_. There's something bitter and wistful, and Sean's exposed himself to enough rom-coms that the average twenty-four year old should know to understand the sound of longing, the sound of--  
  
\--and Mark saying that he _needs_ Eduardo, _to his fucking face_. Mark hasn't said something that--well, the most sincere thing Sean's gotten out of Mark were some half-hearted "thank you"s after waking him up for meetings or covering the tab or something. Not something as blatant as "I need you;" and with how boring and literal Eduardo is, Sean highly doubts that Eduardo is exaggerating one bit. Mark straight-up told Eduardo that he needs him. Mark is--  
  
"Oh my god," says Sean. "You guys are fucking _blind_ and I can't believe that I have to play matchmaker for you both."  
  
His mouth is too fast for him to think about this properly, and when Eduardo says, "What?" Sean goes and tells him, "Dude, Mark is _pining_ for you."  
  
"What are you talking about?" Eduardo says. He looks guarded. Sean can tell he's just not letting himself have this thing, and he'd happily fire Eduardo from Facebook so as long as it meant that Eduardo stayed in California and made his so-called "best friend" happy. Well, he'd happily fire Eduardo either way, but this would be the less destructive option.  
  
"I'm saying, Mark has a big ol' gay crush on you," Sean says. "Or a bisexual crush, I don't know what he likes. But it's the whole nine yards. Wants to make a baby with you and everything. Needs you out here like he needs some other romantic bullcrap and doesn't know how to say it to your face than his own version of three words."  
  
"What," Eduardo says.  
  
Sean takes his chance and shoves Eduardo--because they sort of had a heart-to-heart, right, and Eduardo _might_ not beat him up, who knows. "I can tell that _you_ need his lovin' in your life, and neither of you will say a fucking thing! Go fucking tell him!"  
  
"I'm pretty sure you're reading this all wrong," Eduardo says warily. "Mark doesn't--He's not--Not me, he wouldn't--"  
  
"Mark has the emotional awareness of a walnut," Sean says, "and yet, he said, _directly to you_ , that he needs you. And that he doesn't want you to tell me. What the hell do you think that means?"  
  
Eduardo looks uncertain as he says, "That he has a crush on _you_?"  
  
Sean laughs. "Believe me, many ladies--people, are into me, but Mark isn't one of them."  
  
"How would you know?" Eduardo says suspiciously.  
  
"Because they're either stupid or try to exploit me," Sean says. "Which, by the way, hasn't worked. Anyway, Mark's a fucking weirdo but I can tell that I'm not the first person whose approval he wants. He wants _yours_ too--"  
  
"Yeah, right," says Eduardo.  
  
"--and he wants your cute little butt out here in California because he may need me for business but you? He needs you for _company_. Because you're his 'Wardo', or whatever. And he's embarrassed about having feelings, which is," Sean rolls his eyes. Like, he gets it, he thinks feelings are overrated too, and basing everything on emotion can make you blindsided, but that doesn't mean that when you have them you should _ignore_ them. Or deliver them poorly, like Mark has evidently done.  
  
Eduardo stares at Sean. "You just called my butt cute," he says.  
  
Sean shrugs, undeterred. "I call 'em as I see 'em."  
  
"I..." Eduardo seems to think his words over, which is good enough. If either of them fuck this up, Sean refuses to take the blame, because he basically set it up golden for the both of them. And if things happen with wonderful gay sexing and unicorns and other shit like that, Sean will gladly take credit. "You may not be wrong," Eduardo says.  
  
"I'm never wrong," Sean says cheerfully.  
  
Eduardo snorts, but this time it isn't scornful or annoyed. In fact, it might sound a bit fond. "Sure."  
  
Sean leans back on his elbows. "You know," he says, gazing above the treetops, over to where the 101 cruises. The sun is beginning to rise over the skyline, and even though they're not in a city or anything, just a collegetown full of a bunch of pretentious college kids, it's still pretty nice. "You're not that bad, Saverin."  
  
Eduardo gives him a withering look. "I still hate you, Parker."  
  
"Eh," says Sean, and shrugs. "I'm pretty used to that."  
  
To his surprise, this makes Eduardo break out into a grin.  
  
*  
  
They don't go back into the house so much as when the sun's barely risen and it might be an hour or so later, Mark comes out of the house and sees the two of them on the roof and Eduardo jumps down like a panther and says that they need to talk again.  
  
And then Sean spends the rest of the morning outside, which means that it's only a while before Dustin comes out of the house and asks Sean why it sounds like a mattress is rocking like someone is having sex in the house while the rest of them are asleep and Sean nearly falls off the roof laughing.  
  
And then Eduardo misses his flight back out to New York but it's okay and he's broken up with Christy over the phone (which, dick move, but Sean doesn't mind picking up the pieces for Christy until like a year later when Christy breaks his favorite bong and says that she found someone less trashy than him anyway and all's well that--well, is well.)  
  
And Eduardo is there for the millionth member party and over drinks in the new Facebook offices Eduardo says, "Parker," and Sean smirks and says, "Saverin," and they can talk about how Thiel is an asshole despite his angel investment and how Mark is overworking himself and it's necessary but _overworking_ and they'll get the ConnectU lawsuit all figured out, together.  
  
And then, way down the line, there are weddings and Mark looking happier than any moment he was ever working on Facebook, clutching Eduardo like he still needs him, just as much as Eduardo wants Mark when he beams at him and Sean whispers to his date (Amy Ritter), "I did that," and she steps on his foot.  
  
And--well. Sean is not a matchmaker and he did not see everything coming. But if you asked, he is and he did, and these two guys are happy, and Sean and Facebook and everything else is at the top of the world, right where they deserve to be.  
  
And isn't that all that matters?


End file.
